


What This Marring Has Given

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, Gen, Time Travel, impossible choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24922651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: After his death, Fëanor found himself in the room with his infant self. Perhaps this was a chance to save his mother, if he could only accept the cost.
Relationships: Finwë/Míriel Þerindë | Míriel Serindë
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34
Collections: FandomWeekly (2019-2020) Writing Challenge on Dreamwidth





	What This Marring Has Given

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Fandom Weekly Challenge 54 - Time Travel.

Fëanor looked down upon himself in the crib and waited. 

He had been brought here in the wake of his death for reasons he could not understand. There was doubtless a choice that awaited him, some torment or trick of the Valar’s. 

But he could not bring himself to care about that, when he could erase the mistakes they had made. His mother was here, still alive, still well enough to be saved, and if it took what spirit Fëanor had left in the wake of his own death, he could save her from hers. 

Perhaps that was why he was being given this choice. Perhaps he had not actually been given this choice, perhaps the world had bent to fix itself in the wake of the disaster that was the Valar’s rule. Even as he wanted to rage once more at them he could faintly hear what was happening in the world he had left behind. 

Fingon’s voice rose over the winds, calling to Maedhros. His half-brother’s son, who would not be born if he succeeded in saving his mother. His half-brother’s son, who was so close to his own eldest, even in the wake of all that had occurred. Fingon would not exist if this marring was erased.

Fëanor closed his eyes and turned, fading into the shadows as the door opened, his father supporting his weakened mother as she walked forward to look at him. He could still save her, he knew, could give her back some of the fiery spirit she had given to him. 

Fingon’s voice rose again, as Maedhros screamed in pain and relief, sobbing with joy as he slipped onto the eagle. Maedhros who loved what and who the marring had brought. Maedhros, who Fëanor loved as dearly as he loved all his sons. 

But did he love them more than he loved his mother? More than he loved what could have been in a world where his mother did not die?

Fëanor’s spirit shook as he waited in the darkness, waited until his parents left for their own bed, his chance slipping away with the careful steps his mother took. She looked back as they left the room, doubtless looking at his younger self, but he could only think she was blaming him for what would be.

“I am sorry,” he whispered to himself before he turned and left for the Halls.


End file.
